Shatterproof
by CrystallizedIce
Summary: AU. Really AU. Derek, an experienced cardiothoracic surgeon, runs into Angie, a burn specialist, and the two quickly pick up from where they left in med school. Sparks will fly, hearts will be broken, and more than one life will be threatened. Do note this fiction is over a year old. Rated M for lanaguage, self-hurt, attempted rape, character death. Enjoy.


_~St. Mary's Trauma Center, California~ _

"Just rest a little and your leg will be better in no time, okay?" Derek told the eight-year old girl he was attending to. She had taken quite the bad fall a few days ago and had been directed to Derek as a gift from the orthopedic wing.

"Okay." The girl replied cheerfully. The operation itself had been quick and simple, with no complications. She'd be up and running in no time. Kids rebounded quickly, especially when under the capable and precise hands of a cardiac surgeon as skilled as him.

He left Room 201 in favor of his office. Groaning at the amount of paperwork he had to do, he sat down and took out a green gel pen from his drawer.

A few hours later, he left his office in need of a caffeine fix, as he hadn't had coffee in a good twelve hours. It was too late in the night for his favorite snack stand, so he wandered the hospital in search of a new one. He found himself in the burn center, somewhere he had been only a handful of times. He hadn't been here since he was a resident, and that had been a couple years ago. He wouldn't have recognized the place if not for the signs.

At the moment, though, it seemed quite chaotic. From one room, he could hear a woman shouting; at another, the sounds of a defibrillator - and the people using it - could be clearly heard. He briskly walked toward the commotion in Operating Room 04 to see what the hell was going on.

_Meanwhile..._

"What the hell were you thinking? That was the STUPIDEST, most IRRESPONSIBLE thing I have ever scene in the eight years I've been working here!" Angie shouted, in disbelief that one of her third-year residents would do such a moronic thing.

He opened his mouth to explain when she glared at him so coldly he stopped.

"You decided to practice on his FACE? As a DARE? What the HELL was the reward? Who put you up to this? Was it someone on Leslie's squad? That would make perfect fucking sense, the bitch hates me! Now because of your stupidity, I'll have to spend the next three hours in surgery and about 30 hours of paperwork trying to fix the mistake that YOU MADE!"

So maybe she exaggerated a little. So maybe she would definitely dump the paperwork on the intern. So maybe she was good enough to do the corrective surgery in thirty minutes. She didn't bother telling the intern, preferring to watch him sweat nervously.

"Ugh. If I ever see you doing anything like that again, I'll make sure you'll do paperwork for the rest of your life. Go!"

The intern, Tyler, scampered out, glad to be free of the terror that was Angie Thompson. She smirked inwardly before stretching her arms and turning to stride outside the room. She had just crossed the threshold before bumping heads with someone moving rather fast. She stumbled backward, clutching her head in pain.

Derek stumbled backwards, shocked and jaw throbbing, as the woman he had just run into had headbutt his chin in reaction. The pain slowly cleared to reveal the young woman on the floor. He stretched out a hand to help her up, at the same time mumbling apologies under his breath.

"I'm so sorry, so sorry, I didn't see you there and I-"

"That's alright." The doctor grabbed his hand and pulled herself up.

_That woman looks familiar..._Derek thought, but who was she?

"Hey, I'm Angie Thompson. I don't recognize you from around here. May I ask who you-"

Derek had to interrupt her now. "Angie Thompson? From Trinity Medical School? The burn prodigy?" They had been friends for a couple years before having to part, both receiving offers on the opposite sides of the country. He had missed her a lot.

Angie's eyes widened. "Derek Stiles? The cardiac prodigy? I can't believe I didn't recognize you! Weren't you supposed to be at Caduceus by now?"

"Yeah, they offered me, but I prefered to stay here, as this place is much better suited for a cardiologist like me." Derek grinned. "I have an operating room with my name on it!"

Angie stuck out her tongue. "I'm working on getting the hospital named after me."

Derek snorted. "Really?"

"Of course not. I'll have to borrow your operating room sometime. I need to test some _lab results._" Angie said, her smile slipping on the last two words.

Derek didn't notice. "Sure, but why do you need an OR for lab re-"

Derek was interrupted by a cry for help. With an irritated sigh, he left...but not before slipping his phone number into Angie's pocket.

* * *

Angie smiled as Derek left to help the residents in Room 306. She had to admit, he was quite smooth; he almost managed to slip that paper in unnoticed, but she had felt his breath on her neck as he had leaned closer...

She took it out of her pocket and blushed scarlet. 7 digits, in a rough scrawl - quite obviously his phone number. Was he really serious? Did he just want to talk, or did he mean something by it...? She was confused, but...

A few days later, after finishing the corrective surgery, and smiling as Tyler wrote out his apology to the man that would be given to him when he woke up, Derek walked into her office, smirking, his eyes flickering to her. She glanced at him, and held his gaze for a little while more before dropping her eyes. His soft chocolate eyes just made her want to melt. She felt the red prickling her cheeks and struggled intensely to control it. Turning her attention to her patient charts with her mind still definitely on Derek, she barely heard him say "Hey, Ang, mind if I speak to you for a bit?"

Blushing at the nickname, she brushed some of her hair out of her face. "Um...sure...?"

Angie glanced at Tyler, then sent him off to do some paperwork. Double-checking that he really did leave, and was not eavesdropping behind the now-closed door, she looked back at Derek. "What's up?"

"You never answered my question that time. Why do you need an operating room for lab results? I would have asked you earlier, but...I forgot."

"I'm testing various results. Specifically, I'm borrowing your ECG." She muttered. It was the truth...mostly.

"Angie..." Derek looked at her curiously... "Are you testing...on yourself?"

Oh shit, she was caught. Looking everywhere but at him, she muttered "No..."

"Angie." He took a step forward. "You're..." Another step. "A terrible liar." She looked up, and he was _right there_, just a few paces away. Close enough to touch. "So..." His voice dropped, and she almost dropped to her knees. "What, exactly, are you doing in my operating room?"

She felt the red creep up onto her cheeks. "I-I'm not...I-I'm not..." Derek smirked. "I found a set of electrodes in my trash can. Multiple sets, really. I bribed the janitor not to clean up there for a bit. So you're using them every day. I also had a friend dust them for fingerprints, and sure enough, they were yours. And..." Derek pulled out a paper, and she cringed; it was the results she got back from the lab. "These are some readings, printed out by you, that I found on top of those electrodes. I noted amarkedly decreased pulse." Derek stepped closer to her and placed a hand over her heart. Her heart raced. She protested weakly and placed her hand on top of his to yank it off, but something in his expression stopped her.

After a few moments, he stepped back a little, dropping her hand. "You...you're okay?" His cheeks were tinged red too, but nothing like the fire that was probably still burning bright on hers.

She nodded, mute, still shocked by the fact that she was getting away with her lie and the feeling of his hand on her.

Unexpectedly, he stepped closer and pressed his lips to her forehead. She didn't think her face could get any redder, but it did. Just as soon as it started, it ended, and he pulled back. He looked at her carefully before whispering, "Don't do anything stupid, please." Then he was gone, leaving her stunned and dazed.

* * *

Yawning, Derek walked up the stairs to his apartment floor. He was worried about Angie. He didn't actually have any proof that something was physically wrong with her, besides the ECG results that could have belonged to anyone. Her fingerprints on the electrodes were a bluff, but when he had saw how she had reacted when he had asked the question, he had gone on the offensive.

He let himself in, and dropped on his bed, his eyes shutting.

"Derek..." A voice murmured in his ear, cool breath on his cheek. He didn't open his eyes, though; too damn tired.

Poke. Poke.

"Derek..." That voice whispered again. He flipped over, his eyes opening to see the delicate frame of Angie Thompson.

He took a moment to appreciate her. Golden-blond hair, emerald eyes, a pretty smile...Then he woke up.

"How the hell did you get in here? The door was closed!" He glared at her. "And I'm tired. Go away." Then a second thought hit him. "Why do you know where I live?"

Poke. Poke.

"I held the door open before it shut. And I asked the receptionist, who was willing to provide your address in exchange for a twenty." She smiled.

Poke. Poke.

"Stop that! And why are you here?" He glared, before shutting his eyes again.

Poke. Poke.

"You wouldn't have answered if I called you. And I needed to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Do you want to talk about why you kissed me or why you're looking in your trash for proof I'm testing myself?" Her smile changed to a smirk, though she flushed a little at the word "kiss".

"Both! Neither! Can't this wait until later?" He put his pillow over his head and tried to tune her out."

"Why do you care so much about me?" The question was unexpected, although Derek sorta knew the answer.

"Because I do?" He answered meekly. She leaned forward suddenly and gently touched her lips to his.

The kiss was soft and sweet, and left them both out of breath. She pulled back, her mind slightly clouded. He sat there, utterly stunned, while she hugged him tightly. Angie pulled back after a few moments and waited for his reaction.

"Do you want to go out?" Derek blurted. He watched her face light up before she brought her lips tentatively to his again.

"Yes..." She murmured quietly before pulling back and walking out of the room, leaving him lying there dazed.

* * *

She touched her lips with her finger as she strode down the stairs.

"_I can't believe I'm dating Derek Stiles..."_ It was a stupid mistake. She had wanted it. She really shouldn't have. But yet, as she looked at him, his eyes widened after the brief contact of their lips, she couldn't bring herself to say no.

Was it just because she had trouble admitting to herself that he was the first man she had ever relied on? She couldn't figure out what to make with herself. She couldn't even remember the last time she had blushed, not counting embarrassment. But as she remembered her _kiss_ with Derek, she felt her face heat up for what had to be the twentieth time that night. As she remembered him cornering her in her office, his hand over her heart, she felt her spirit soar.

_The next day..._

"Hey, Ang...Are you free tonight at eight?" Derek's voice knocked her out of her stupor. She had been daydreaming about the kiss again, and he was standing...ohmygod...he was standing _right _behind her.

She spun around to see him, blushing profusely, and whispered "Yes..."

"Do you think that we can go to Tom's today? If that's okay with you?"

Her favorite restaurant. Of course. "Yes..."

"Great." He smiled, before pecking her on her cheek and striding outside of the hallway.

"_How in the world does he do that..."_ She wondered, her mind spinning in a lopsided circle. She shook her head then quietly walked away.

She couldn't figure out why he was so damn attractive to her. Certainly, he had nice looks, but that wasn't really what made someone boyfriend material. She just...gravitated to him. And from the way he reacted to their kiss, so did he.

_A few hours later..._

"Here we are!" said Derek as he smoothly braked into the last open parking stall before stepping out of the car and opening her door. He took her hand and helped her step out of the car.

"_He makes me feel...so loved..."_ Angie watched him as he shut the door before locking the car, then sliding his hand into hers before intertwining their fingers. "_I've never felt so cared for..."_ He dropped her hand to open the restaurant door for her. She watched him talk to the host a bit before she saw a fifty slip into his hand. Wow. He was good.

She saw the host nod, before he directed them to a window-view in the corner. They talked pleasantly a bit about minor things before he reached across the table and put his hand over her heart again. She had gotten slightly used to this by now, so her pulse was fairly steady. He started to pull his hand back before she caught it and held it close to her. She smiled gently at him, but he didn't return it this time.

"Angie...why is your pulse so low...?" Derek looked at her carefully. Damn it. He had noticed. "Are you sure you are okay? Do you think you should get tested?"

She forced a smile. "I'm fine, Derek."

"Those were your test results, weren't they?" Derek demanded. Her heart dropped to her stomach. This is not how she wanted to spend her night. He saw him gauging her expression carefully. "I'm sorry, Ang, I'm just so worried about you."

She dropped his hand. "I'm sorry. I don't want to be here tonight." She watched his face fall before he averted his gaze. "Alright, Angie."

They walked out of the dining room and Angie saw him talk to the host for a little bit. She continued her path out of the restaurant, and was in the parking lot when it happened.

She was slammed against the wall back first by a man who was obviously drunk. His breath reeked of liquor. "My, my..." The assailant chuckled. "You sure are pretty, aren't you?" She struggled before he slapped her, before dragged her off out of sight into a nearby alley. He ran his eyes appreciatively over her struggling form. Before she could do anything, his lips covered her own. She gagged before he jammed a knee into her stomach, taking her breath away. His lips were coarse and rough, bruising her own. He pulled back and she took the opportunity to take in breath to scream when he hit her blindingly hard on the side of her temple, dropping her to her knees, a trickle of blood trailing down her face. She felt his knee slam into her stomach twice more, and she coughed heavily. While she was incapacitated, he gagged her and bound her arms behind her back.

"Now...where were we?" He slid his disgusting hands down her curves before resting on her waist. He made to rip off a piece of her dress when a voice rang out.

"Get your _filthy _hands off of my girlfriend!" Derek snarled. Her heart leaped at his words, although it dropped just as quickly when the man punched her once more in the head, dropping her to her knees, before turning around. He pulled out a switchblade.

She watched Derek run at the man. The assailant slashed at Derek, blood flying through the air, and suddenly he was stumbling backwards. She watched as Derek punched him twice in the face before bringing his elbow into the man's cheek. The man slashed blindly twice more before his head hit the wall, and Derek picked up the knife that had been dropped. Angie widened her eyes.

Derek slammed the man in the temple with the hilt of the knife, and the man dropped to the ground, unconscious. He turned towards Angie, fire in his eyes. He walked to her and sliced her gag and binds off before nearly dragging her to her feet. She stumbled as he turned away.

"Let's get you to a hospital." She shivered at his distant tone. He strode away, only semi-caring whether or not she followed. She refused to get in the car, however.

"I am not going to a hospital." Angie muttered. Her head throbbed and she was still stunned at how close she was to being violated, and maybe even killed.

"Would you rather stay here alone?" He demanded, feeling rather than seeing her shudder. "I'll just call a taxi."

"Suit yourself." Derek shrugged, before starting the car and driving away. She heard the squeal of his tires as the sounds faded into silence.

She dug into her pocket to find her phone, only to find that it had no battery. She looked around. She had never felt so alone, a contrast to what she had been feeling just a hour ago. Angie turned. The restaurant was closed. Was it really already nine o'clock? She was starting to panic. She could hear people talking in a group about a hundred and fifty feet away from her. All male. All drunk.

"Derek?" She called out hopelessly, and stupidly, as it turned out. The voices paused for a moment, then she heard footsteps coming toward her.

"Derek?!" She screamed again, a lot shrillier. She heard the footsteps break into a run, less than a hundred and twenty feet from her. They were gaining fast, and although it was night, there wasn't a lot of cover to be found. On one side there were a group of drunk men gaining on her. To the left was a 7-11, closed for the night as well. To the right was Tom's restaurant. And behind her was an alley. There was no way she could outrun the men, who were now less than seventy feet in front of her.

She heard a car pull in behind her, engine running. "Get in, NOW." To her everlasting relief, it was Derek. She glanced at his eyes, stormy, then back at the men, who were less than ten seconds away from her. He started to drive away again when she sprinted for the passenger's seat, ripped the door open, and dived in.

"Hey man, you have to share that-" one of the men called out, before Derek floored the gas and they left. She gasped in relief before clicking her seatbelt on. Then she turned toward Derek.

"Why did you come back?" She asked him tentatively. "I probably would have been kidnapped or killed if you had left me...but you didn't leave..."

"I couldn't let you die." She heard him say, before he turned toward her and the car's light illuminated what the night had stopped her from seeing.

The right side of his chest was oozing blood, his shirt stained a dark red. He had a deep cut on his left cheek and his side was dripping blood. Her hands flew to her mouth in horror. "D-Derek...!"

He brushed off her concerns. "I'm fine. You, on the other hand, are a mess."

She was an emotional wreck. Traumatized by the man's forceful and unwanted kiss, having to deal with hurting Derek, feeling the devastating pain of being alone...She would never really be the same, cheerful self she was. But at the same time...she couldn't ignore the fact that after everything she did, Derek still came back - risked his LIFE to save her.

Physically, she was in shock. Blood stained some of her hair red, and there was an open cut on her scalp. Her stomach was bruised, and would be for several more days. Her lips felt bruised and dirty. Tears slid out of her eyes periodically. But what had happened to her was nothing compared to what had happened to him.

She closed her eyes. No one would ever take her back now. Not when she felt so...filthy.

They were at the hospital. Everything flashed by in a blur. Derek was in shock, which is why he felt fine, and he was admitted to the ER for emergency surgery. She watched him go, her hand reaching for his, and for a brief moment, they touched before he collapsed, unconscious and losing blood fast. She screamed bloody murder until someone injected her with morphine.

The morphine didn't help. She was trapped in a dream world. She felt no physical pain, but she was left to deal with the emotional catalyst that was her.

She was scared, so horribly scared, that she would lose Derek. And if that happened, she didn't know what she was going to do. And even if he was alive...

"_I'll never have him again..." _ Angie thought, a sense of dejection falling over her. Not after what she had done. Not after what that man had done. It was over. Everything was over.

Angie shut her eyes and sobbed to herself in her dream world, wishing that she never existed.

* * *

About a month after Derek's surgery, he was ready to be discharged from the room. He had been on paid leave. Just a final scan to make sure that his stomach was healing up fine and he'd be free to go.

Now that he thought about it, he'd been lucky. Half an inch more on his cheek and he'd have no jaw function. A centimeter more on his chest and he wouldn't have survived the cut through his vein and lung. Just a few dozen millimeters more into his stomach and it would have had to been removed. If he hadn't had the common sense to back away after the first two punches, and if he hadn't been pushed into shock by the cut through his cheek...

Angie was the one who he was worried about. Tyler, her intern, had kept him posted with periodic updates. She'd been under drugs for the suturing, and had slipped into a light coma for a week. She had come out of it at the same time Derek had started therapy. Physically, Angie was fine...

But emotionally, no one had any clue. She'd been put on leave for a week; she'd been acting oddly distant from everyone, and she had almost lost a few patients before the chief made her take a vacation.

Unfortunately, he couldn't take back what he'd done. He had essentially abandoned her in the middle of a parking lot filled with drunk men, alone, right after she had almost been raped. He had ruined her date with him, and with it his chances of ever having a friendly conversation with her again. He had given her the cold shoulder after she had stormed out of the restaurant.

He would never have her again. Never be able to hold her hand again. Never be able to kiss her again. What he had managed to do was make a spectacular mess of his life. That was great.

The pressure broke him in half.

_Almost a month later..._

They weren't even on speaking terms. As Burn and Cardiac rarely overlapped, they didn't even have to see each other. Both were afraid of the other's reaction, neither of them with any self-confidence. Angie cried herself to sleep overnight; Derek drank himself to unconsciousness. Both of them were quietly professional at work, never doing anything more than necessary and not doing any overtime. The depression was also affecting them in other ways; Derek forgoed sleep, his hands trembled, and eventually he nearly killed a patient. He suffered a lawsuit; he settled it outside of court. The money that he paid wasn't much, but it put him on probation. Angie gave a lot of the operations to her interns and residents, stepping in only when they messed up or when the steps were too hard. She spent most of the time doing paperwork.

Suddenly, everything shifted. Angie, in a moment of self-pity, cut her wrists. The cuts were physically nothing to worry about; emotionally, it signalled that she was a leaf in a angst storm. She refused therapy, instead promising not to do it again and spending all of her time engrossed in paperwork and surgery, spending hours and hours on overtime and vehemently refusing to go on vacation.

Derek saw this as a message to him. He lost a patient, but the investigation that followed found him innocent, instead seeing it as too difficult an operation for anyone to perform. They were wrong, of course. Derek just wasn't able to react in time, as everything suddenly fell apart around him. The loss snapped him, and he quit his job. It came as a shock to everyone, especially when he claimed that he was quitting for social reasons; everyone at the hospital knew by now that he had thrown away his social life.

It took a while, but Tyler finally let slip to Angie that Derek had quit his job and was preparing to move across the US. This threw her into absolute hysterics, and she almost quit her job, too. She pulled herself together, though, after etching his name on her wrist with a scalpel, and returned to work.

One day, though, she couldn't stand the deafening silence in her lonely apartment. She dialed his number.

"Sorry, but the number you are calling is no longer in service..."

He had canceled his number. This was bad. Very, very bad. She threw on something decent with sleeves and drove as legally fast as possible to his apartment. She stood outside of his apartment. She walked away, back to her car. Then she walked back. Then she went back to her car. This continued for about an hour before she managed to convince herself that she would only get peace if she talked to him. She knocked on the door tentatively, the whole time telling herself that this was a terrible, terrible idea.

The door opened, and she saw Derek for the first time in three months. He looked absolutely horrible. He hadn't shaved in a while, his hair was matted down and caked with wine, his eyes were dull, the familiar fire in them extinguished and stepped on. Predictably, he smelled like beer.

What had she done to him? He looked so...broken. He was in his own personal hell and had locked everything that mattered in a little box inside him. He was aged. The thing that got to her, though, is the fact that he was staring right through her, glassy irises unfocused and dull. She held back a strangled sob and stepped inside the room. Everything was packed in neat little boxes, save for some of the broken glass scattered in his apartment and a case of bottles on the floor. She gingerly stepped around the glass, feeling Derek's half-hearted gaze on her back.

She turned around, looking at him fiercely. "What the hell have you done to yourself!?" She stepped closer. "Derek!" Another step. "Derek! Where the fuck did you go!?" She choked back a whimper. "Derek!" She was close enough to touch him. "Derek!" She touched his cheek. "Derek..." She dropped to her knees. "Derek...I want you back...Derek..." She blinked a tear down her cheek. Angie shut her eyes in angst. "What is wrong with me...How could I do this to you?"

She felt a finger brush away her tear. She looked up and opened her eyes to see the sad smile on his face. "It isn't your fault." Drunk. She couldn't trust anything he said.

"I love this girl a lot." She turned to him. "I love her a lot. I would die for her. She has the most beautiful smile. I would do anything to keep it there. And one time, I saw this guy try to touch her...I almost killed him. She's really nice. I wish she liked me, but she doesn't. I still love her though. But I have to leave her, because I think I might be hurting her." She smiled tragically at him. Drunk words. That's all they were.

"What's her name, Derek? Do you know? Can you tell me what her name is?" Angie almost cried again, but she tried futilely to keep her composure.

"Do you promise? Do you promise you won't tell her that I said this?" He said pleadingly, sitting back down on his bed.

"Sure, Derek, I promise." She shut her eyes, bracing herself for the pain to come.

"Her name..." Derek gulped, "Her name is Angie Thompson." Angie lost her battle with her composure and bawled. She felt a gentle hand at her shoulder. "Hey...Are you okay?"

Even drunk, Derek was the kindest person she knew, even if he was kind of stupid intoxicated. "Yes, Derek, I'm fine..." She stood on tiptoe and pecked him on the cheek, then left.

The next day, he left California, leaving her a wreck. She didn't know if she would ever see him again. She desperately wanted to, because she was sinking closer and closer to killing herself. He was her drug, and she was in a hopeless fight against withdrawal. She managed to keep her job, but every day, another cut burned itself onto her wrist.

* * *

Everything changed one day, over five months after Derek's and Angie's disastrous date.

Tyler had Derek's number the entire time. Upon Derek's request, he was to have it under the condition that he update Derek about her every day, and that he not give the number to anyone else. And even though he saw that it was killing Angie, he agreed to it. Every day, he heard the hesitance and pain in Derek's voice.

Derek was closer every day to coming back. Every day, he argued the pros and cons of going back. Every day, he managed to convince himself not to go back, because he was hurting her. And Angie's safety was worth everything. In the meantime, he got a job as a cardiac surgeon in New York, where he made several friends. Angie slipped from his mind every day that passed. A few times, he was asked out. He politely rejected them all. He wasn't sure why, but he suspected that he was waiting for Angie.

One day, Tyler called Derek frantically while he was doing paperwork.

"Derek...it's terrible news. Come back now. Angie's had a massive heart attack and it's terminal. If she doesn't have a heart transplant within a day, she's a goner, but there isn't any time to search for a possible donor."

"Alright, I'm coming." Derek wasn't sure what exactly he was planning to accomplish back at St. Mary's.

The only thing that kept him going was that Angie needed a heart transplant, but they didn't have any transplantable hearts that matched her. He glanced at the ECG paper's tacked onto his office wall, a copy of the original. One of the things that the new ECG could do is give some additional information that would have taken days to otherwise test. It had to be checked, of course...but...He had scanned her blood and ECG results, and using the medical records already on her...

He was a match.

* * *

She had refused morphine. Angie laid on her side. Twelve hours, they said, for her to live. It took eight for testing a potential match, and almost sixteen to test a complete stranger. The operation took about five hours. It didn't really matter, as there wasn't anyone who could give her a heart. She had, according to the techies, the most difficult heart case they had ever seen. With an O-Blood Type with several genetic difficulties that impeded the chances of anyone getting even close to qualify as her donor...

According to them, there was, as best, 1 person besides her who could qualify as a donor.

Dying wasn't something she was scared of. She wasn't scared of anything any more. The last five months of her life were torture. She considered death an escape.

Tyler walked into her room, looking guilty. She glanced at him before shutting her eyes again.

"Doctor...we've found the donor for you." This got her attention. "Really? Who?"

The person in question walked in. Derek. He was here. Derek...at that point, the full extent of Tyler's sentence hit her.

"What the hell do you mean he's here as a donor? I am not taking his fucking heart! Are you serious? No!"

Derek shrugged. Tyler winced. "Well, he hasn't made up his mind yet. Angie, you will take his heart, if he says yes. I've taken a look -" At this point, she looked incredulously at him. "-He's been teaching me some things, but that is not the point, anyways, I've taken a look and his heart will keep you alive for at least thirty more years, which is really amazing."

"I have patient rights. I refuse to take his heart." She stated bluntly, and looked at Derek. "Are you serious? Is this some sort of...joke..." Her voice trailed off, and for the first time since opening her eyes, she looked at him closely.

The sparkle in his eyes was long gone, replaced with a distant coolness. He held himself angled away from her, leaning toward the door. His fingers were not by his sides but rather held closer, defensively, to his chest.

She didn't know who this new Derek was and she was going to proceed carefully. Tyler glanced between the two. "Well, I'll leave you two alone for a few minutes to discuss while I fill out some of the forms..." He left quickly, anticipating a fight of some sort.

Instead, Derek walked over to where she was. He reached down, and brushed her blonde locks out of her face. It felt soothing, and she didn't stop him. He sat on the edge of her bed, continuing to softly stroke her hair. She started a little when she felt his hand on her back, but relaxed when he simply started to rub in circles. She yawned sleepily and closed her eyes.

To her dismay, he stopped, and she looked up with a questioning glance. He gave her a crooked smile. "Can't have you falling asleep, can I?" She stared at him suspiciously. "You aren't here to give me a massage, are you? Why are you really here?"

"Angie..."

"No! I will not take your heart! You can't make me!" She protested, already starting to turn away, her automatic defense.

His hand stopped her, and she was left with no choice but to look back and face him. With absolutely no warning, he leaned forward quickly and kissed her for real. When he pulled back, Angie gave a content sigh. He wasn't done, though. He moved his head back and kissed her again, and again, and again. She was flushed by the time he was done, and so was he. They took a few moments to catch their breath.

"Angie...take my heart..." She looked at him pleadingly. "You already have it..."

"I don't have anything else going for me. I can't operate any more. My left hand doesn't have the control any more." A lie, but he needed to convince her to live. She shook her head in denial.

"Please, Angie...If you don't take it, I'll just go to someone else. But...I'd rather you have it." That was the flaw in her argument.

With no other choice, Angie nodded helplessly. Derek held out the paper of her consent.

"Sign it, Ang..." She wrapped her arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder, letting go every tear that she had stored up in the last five months. Every angst, every hurt, every shattered bit of hope was poured onto Derek's shoulder. Angie was broken. "I love you, Derek..."

He kissed her gently once more. "I love you too, Ang..."

Twelve minutes before the deadline, Angie Thompson signed the paper that gave her his heart.

* * *

_Derek was the one who operated, although I didn't know this until after the operation. It's been thirty years since the operation, and Derek's heart shows no signs of slowing down. Nothing was ever the same, really. I dated some men. None of them really captivated me. Derek's final gift holds me together in my darkest times. You see, not only did he give me his heart...he gave me his love. And I hold it to this day._


End file.
